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Hello from Machu Picchu, All of the trains from Cuzco to Machu Picchu Pueblo (the new official name for Agua Caliente below the ruins) leave early in the morning and don't arrive until the afternoon. Learning of the luxury Vistadome service starting at the halfway point in Ollantaytambo, I decided to take the Sacred Valley tour and hop off the tour bus near the end of the tour in Ollantaytambo. We made several stops on the way: a spectacular arts and crafts town near the ruins of Pisac and the ruins of Ollantaytambo and adjacent village where the railroad connection to Machu Picchu is located. Arriving a little before noon I checked out the train station and close-by accommodations. The resort like three star $89 Hotel Pakaritampu located a half block from the train boarding platform had no available rooms and the receptionist suggested another "good hotel" that must have been run by a very close friend of hers as it would have been inaccurate to describe any aspect of the bare boards place as good. Checking around the plaza (all towns in South America have a central plaza!) I found an open door marked "Hostel" and went in. A friendly girl with a bare smattering of English showed me the room she had: simple, view of the ruins, clean, hot water, breakfast and 35 Soles (about $10). I took it. After checking in I walked the kilometer back down the hill to the train station ticket window and bought my $35 ticket for the 10:30AM run the following day on the fabled Vistadome rail service. The ticket window even at this late hour had hoards of tourists clustered around it. Everyone seemed to have a complicated question that needed an involved answer. Finally I reached the window and had my uncomplicated ticket in a minute! Before returning to my hovel I stopped in at the Pakaritampu Hotel and had a wonderful avocado-chicken salad dinner complete with a glass of white house wine, all for under ten dollars. The next morning at 5:30AM when I awoke an old guy sweeping up around the hostel indicated the included breakfast might be ready at 9AM, guiding me as he spoke in Spanish to a sleepy cafe around the corner. With over three hours to kill, I climbed around the ruins for a while where early risers were bathing in the still functional Inca baths supplied by the channeled river water. Crossing to the other side of the river I walked the still inhabited ancient residential area along the bank of the river. Ollantaytambo is the last living Inca town in the world. Many people who live here still speak the ancient Inca language. Some of the older people didn't even seem to understand my attempts in Spanish to be pleasant. Walking the narrow warren of corridors that serve as interconnecting streets in this charming Indian enclave proved to be the highlight of my brief stay here. I could easily imagine life in this simple collection of stone neighborhoods five hundred years ago. Little has changed. After being satisfied I had seen enough of the surviving Inca lifestyle I went back down to the luxurious Pakaritampu Hotel for an excellent $6 buffet breakfast with the hotel's registered guests before returning to get my things in preparation for the train ride down the river to Machu Picchu Pueblo. Most of the photos taken during my brief layover in Ollantaytambo are presented on my page for the Ollantaytambo ruins. Fed and packed I strolled down to the gated fence which separates the throngs of hotel touts, taxi drivers, waiting tour buses, and anxious passengers from the actual boarding platform. At 10:00 sharp the gate keeper allowed those of us with visible tickets to pass into the inner sanctums. For the next hour multiple blue engines, some with one or two passenger cars maneuvered back and forth in front of the station. Each time one would stop our cluster of 10:30 passengers would line up to board. Finally, a half hour late the distinctive Vistadome cars appeared and after departing passengers cleared we all climbed aboard to find our assigned seats. Service on this luxury train is like that on an airline. Stewards pushed refreshment carts up and down the isle dispensing complimentary light snacks and beverages. The train followed the Rio Vilcanota out of Ollantaytambo most of the way down to our destination, Machu Picchu Pueblo. During the two hour ride we passed through lush jungle like vegetation. At three points along the way starting points for the Inca Trail were pointed out by the conductor. A surprising number of farms showed how fertile the river bottom land is in this isolated part of the world. With no roads, the only way in or out is by the single rail line used to ferry passengers back and forth to Machu Picchu. Hidden high in the Andes Mountains 43 miles northwest of Cuzco, it sits on top of a ridge which hides it from the gorge below. The river, now called the Urubamba wraps itself around the ridge forming a natural moat. The train slowed and we entered a tight cluster of buildings on the edge of Machu Picchu Pueblo. Located at the bottom of a deep ravine, pedestrian walkways follow the level curved paths through a clutter of tourist stands, finally crossing another river separating the two halves of the village. Situated on the side of a steep hill, the main street gives visitors a good workout getting to or from the central plaza and most of the hotels higher on the street. The highly advertised Machu Picchu Inn is at the intersection of the main street and the main footpath from the train station. The lackadaisical receptionist offered me a mediocre $80 walkup room on the fourth floor and after inspecting it I walked out without again trying to get his attention. A few inquiries later and I found the obscure rustic, but well maintained $75 Inti Inn about halfway up the main street hill. Bicycles are the only wheeled vehicles allowed in the pueblo itself and the only road for powered vehicles is the one from the village up the mountain to the ruins. The village is experiencing an orgy of building activity. Many unfinished structures harbor busy workmen laying concrete blocks or moving steel reinforcing rods into place. One section of town is torn up with workmen laying new sewer lines. International banking has not reached Machu Picchu Pueblo. Need cash? Forget looking for an ATM; they don't exist in this little burg and exchange rates for travelers checks are insulting. My first night a pack of dogs decided to serenade guests of the hotels in my area. They kept up the barking racket all night. Early in the morning the barking of one dog turned into the most plaintive screaming I have ever heard from man or beast, urgent and prolonged. When I could no longer ignore the cries I got up to see what had happened. What I saw startled me; two dogs locked in copulation couldn't pull themselves apart. For ten minutes they tried every improbable position and movement. Finally their efforts succeeded and the howling stopped. I've got to wonder if either will ever try that again! The second day I bought my $12 round trip bus ticket for the 20 minute ride up the mountain; paid the $35 daily entrance fee and spent the whole day exploring the remains of an ancient civilization's amazing achievements. Every few steeps another great photo opportunity would present itself. I took many pictures. Around one o'clock I climbed out of the park and treated myself to a $24 buffet lunch at the Sanctuary Inn immediately outside the control gate. Lodging there starts at $400 per night so the $24 lunch seemed like a bargain. After lunch, back I went into the ruins, this time to explore an Inca trail leading to the remarkable Inca Bridge. The trail itself is a work of engineering art, bordered on one side by rock cliffs and the other by stone walls fixed to the cliff below as if by magic. How they did it without power tools is a mystery. The Sierra Club's fine works in the mountains of California are amateur by comparison. A twenty minute walk comes to an abrupt end where a landslide has destroyed the ancient trail. On the other side of the missing section hangs the astounding Inca Bridge. It looks like a stone wall glued to the negative incline stone face of the cliff. At one point the wall is deliberately interrupted making passage impossible. Across the gap is a wooden plank: "the bridge." I fancied the arrangement to be a toll gate of some sort. Beyond the bridge the trail climbs the cliff at a seemingly impossible angle and disappears in a tangle of jungle clinging to the cliff face. This clearly would have been one of the trails connecting the Inca city with the outside world. It is marvelous.
Peace, PS: Don't miss the Google Earth Model of Machu Picchu appended to the end of this page. It is spectacular. FB
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